


When The Stars Threw Down Their Spears

by LadyShadowphyre



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels Do Not Conform To Human Gender Definitions, Animal Transformation, Azazel (mentioned) - Freeform, Castiel Changes Vessels, Castiel in the Bunker, Castiel is an angel, DeMeg If You Squint, Dean Winchester Shows Personal Growth, Eating Disorder Recovery Through Animal Transformation, Ethics Of Consent, Even As A Tiger, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jody Mills cameo, Joshua (mentioned) - Freeform, Kevin Tran (mentioned) - Freeform, M/M, Maybe Even If You Don't Squint, Meg in the Bunker, Minor Revisionist Canon, Naomi (mentioned) - Freeform, Nephilim Tiger Cubs, Post-Purgatory Dean Winchester, Random Unnamed Dead Witch (mentioned), Sam Winchester Is A Tiger, Sam Winchester is a Little Shit, Sastiel Outsider POV, Spells Of Self-Discovery, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tiger Pregnancy, Tigers!!, Winchesters In The Bunker, eating disorder mention, this is not mpreg, this took way too long to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 04:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19804417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowphyre/pseuds/LadyShadowphyre
Summary: It wasn't the first time Dean had seen a tiger pacing back and forth in restless agitation. This time, however, there were no bars between him and the tiger, and Sammy was not clinging to his leg because Sammy was, in fact, the tiger doing the pacing. When a witch's spell doesn't end with her death, leaving Sam stuck in the form of a Caspian tiger, it'll take the help of an old enemy to fix it. Like with so many things, the destination is not nearly so important as the journey to get there.





	When The Stars Threw Down Their Spears

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Twist The Sinews Of Thy Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11694165) by [LadyShadowphyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowphyre/pseuds/LadyShadowphyre). 



> Written for the Sastiel Creations Challenge.  
>  **Theme:** SEVEN | **Prompt:** Saturn  
>  _"Saturn is like the small still voice within. When you listen to it, everything is fine. When you don’t, Saturn manifests whatever you are ignoring in your life, usually as a challenge that you are forced to face. The metal of Saturn is traditionally lead, because it represents the weight of the responsibilities we carry."_  
>  \--Christopher Penzack, [Planetary Magic 7: Saturn, Karma, and Protection](https://christopherpenczak.com/2014/01/13/planetary-magic-7-saturn-karma-and-protection/)  
>  **SPN Fluff Bingo square:** Body Swap  
>  **Sam Winchester Bingo square:** Genderfluid  
>  **Heaven & Hell Bingo square:** Angel Warding  
>  **Good Things Happen Bingo square:** Napping Together
> 
> Sequel to [Twist The Sinews Of Thy Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11694165), but can be read as a stand-alone.

**I** T WASN'T THE first time Dean had seen a tiger pacing back and forth with restless agitation. Of course, that time had been at a zoo in this little podunk town in Mississippi with Sammy clinging to his leg and a solid set of iron bars between them and the unhappy beast. This time, however, there were no bars between him and the tiger, and Sammy was not clinging to his leg. This was because Sammy was, in fact, the tiger doing the pacing. Technically speaking, this also was not the first time that Dean had seen a tiger without bars in between him and it, but those had been cubs and ever since the cubs had been taken to an appropriate wildlife rescue center, aside from one or two pointed comments about not texting him to go get formula ingredients to feed any more extinct baby animals, Dean usually pretended the incident had never happened.

Castiel had come immediately when Dean had prayed to him, which had helped. Sam had always been hesitant to pray to Castiel thanks to Heaven's stupid antipathy towards him, and it had only gotten worse after his stint without a soul, even after he and Castiel had started making motions towards the furthering of a very different kind of bond than the one the angel had with Dean. As agitated as Sam was, Dean hadn't wanted to draw his attention in case there was less human in there than he'd been displaying since the witch had cursed him and the curse hadn't ended with her death at Sam's brand new and very sharp claws.

"Why is Sam currently an adult male Caspian tiger?" were the first words out of Castiel's mouth when the angel arrived. The sound of his voice drew Sam's attention, because the pacing came to a halt as his ears perked up and his head lifted. He stayed where he was, however, until Castiel dropped to one knee and extended a hand to him, and then Dean's tiger-shaped brother was practically trotting over and rubbing his head into Castiel's hand and against his chest. Both the angel's hands buried themselves in Sam's burnt orange and black striped fur and Sam nearly flopped boneless on the floor making little growling noises that had Castiel smiling.

"Witch did it," Dean said, shaking his head and pulling his eyes away from the spectacle Sam was making of himself acting like a housecat for Castiel's petting. "Probably trying to turn him into a normal housecat or something. Didn't work out so well for her when he turned into _this_. Was hoping you could tell us why he didn't change back after he killed her."

"Because he was under the influence of her magic when he killed her," Castiel said in such a matter of fact tone that Dean almost expected to hear "you idiot human" tacked onto the end. "That she made an error in her spellwork to change him into a much larger beast than she expected would not matter. He spilled her blood with the form she gave him, and the blood sealed the transformation."

"So how do we fix it?" Dean demanded, pushing aside the frisson of despair at hearing the confirmation that his brother was basically stuck like this now. He hadn't missed the way Sam's ears had lowered and that he was no longer making those weird growly noises that Dean thought might have been the closest a tiger throat could come to purring. Castiel appeared to notice, too, because he redoubled his efforts in stroking Sam's fur and scratching behind his ears until the green-gold eyes that really didn't look all that different from normal squeezed shut and the huge form relaxed partially draped over Castiel's lap.

"This isn't going to be as easy as you imply, Dean," Castiel said. "From the magical standpoint, there is nothing to 'fix'. Sam is not broken by being a different shape. It isn't an injury to be healed, either. If the witch were still alive, or he bonded to another witch, eventually he would be able to resume human form much like any other familiar."

"Yeah, that ain't happening," Dean grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Nobody's gonna be binding my little brother against his will, not again."

One green-gold eye cracked open and swiveled in Dean's direction. Dean swallowed, but glared back at Sam and lifted his chin. The eye closed again, and then the tail swished along the floor and tapped against the kneeling angel's leg.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Castiel said before Dean could even open his mouth to ask the question. "If I were human, I would be deeply honored to accept your bond to me in this manner, but I can't be your witch. Despite my equivalent level of power to perform the ritual, I lack the necessary soul to connect with yours and, due to my nature, the permanence of physical form necessary to anchor you and grant you the ability to return to human shape."

"Okay, I get the soul thing, but what's your nature have to do with it?" Dean couldn't help but ask. The angel looked pretty damn physical to him, anyway.

"Dean, as I keep reminding you, this body is not my true form," Castiel answered, with just a barest tick of impatience that made Dean feel hot from embarrassment; he _did_ keep forgetting that part. "Nor am I anchored to this vessel in the way your souls are anchored to your bodies. I have a preference for it, given that I am now the only being occupying it and it is the vessel you both are most familiar with in connection to me, but that is the extent of my attachment to it. It is not enough to be a proper anchor for Sam, not in the way required to let him be human again."

"No," Dean said, holding up one hand and shaking his head at the rather pointed look Castiel was shooting him. "Sammy and me are already in each other's pockets all the time, practically in each other's heads some days, but making it literal like that? Really not a good idea, especially with you two making like the Discovery Channel meets Lifetime these days!"

Unspoken, but by no means unacknowledged, was the very real fear Dean could feel clawing at the back of his skull right alongside all the memories he had of Hell and Purgatory. Four months on Earth had equalled to forty years in the part of Hell they'd been keeping him, and he had no idea how long those graydullgray daysnightsweeksmonthsyears had really been during the six months it had taken Sam and Castiel and Kevin to track down the necessary rituals to pull him back out again, but even with Benny's help both there and once he got the vampire back to his body on Earth again it was still a few more months before he could really let go of the ever-present fightfightfightfleefight that gripped his chest at sudden movements or unexpected noises. The Bunker and its heavy wards had helped, even if it had sucked how they got the place at the expense of their grandfather, and Dean had settled into it more than Sam had so far. Dean didn't kid himself into thinking the soundproofed rooms weren't shielding two sets of screaming nightmares instead of just one, and he'd be damned back into Hell and the clutches of whoever had taken over from Alistair before he would inflict his poisonous memories on his little brother on top of Sammy's own.

Castiel, the perceptive celestial bastard, gave him a look that indicated he wasn't fooled by the diversion towards his and Sam's hypothetical sex life (even if Dean had meant it; bad enough one of them kept walking in or waking up when the other was getting busy in the next bed over, but being in each other's heads where not even closed doors could shut out what was happening would be so much worse) but he mercifully refrained from calling Dean on it. What he ended up saying instead was almost worse, though. "I suppose I could make inquiries into other possible options with Meg."

Dean's epithetical response was nearly drowned out by Sam's roar, the violent sound echoing around the high ceiling of the room. He didn't even need to see the laid back ears and teeth-baring snarl to translate that into "fuck no". Neither, it seemed, did Castiel, because the angel's expression went immediately contrite.

"I'm sorry, Sam, I know your history with her is contentious even more so than my own and you have not been given as much opportunity or reason to reconcile with her as I did," the angel said, stroking over the tiger's face without any hesitation for the bared teeth. "I will not bring her here and have you feel unsafe in your home. My own knowledge of magic spells and rituals is limited, however, and I trust Heaven with your safety even less than I would Meg. She was a witch herself, once, and likely has more knowledge and resources than we do currently. If you would prefer not to involve her yet, we should perhaps fully peruse the Bunker's collection of books for anything potentially helpful."

Dean thought about that, about those long metal shelves with the haphazard assortment of books that all seemed shoved into place with no discernible order or system, and felt his eyes glazing over. "Uhh... might not hurt to call her, y'know, get her looking into it on her end while we're looking here, right?"

Sam gave a low growl that was cut off by a huff that segued into a yawn that gave Dean a whole new appreciation for the size of the chompers Sam was sporting now. Castiel nodded his head and stroked the fur between Sam's ears again. "In a little while. You both should get some sleep in order to approach the situation rested and with clearer minds. Yes, of course," he added to Sam when the tiger opened his eyes and looked up into the angel's face with a deeply uncanny display of Sam's usual puppy eyes. "It will be more comfortable for us both in your room, though."

"Dude, I'm standing right here!" Dean complained. "You're gonna ruin all my ability to make 'tiger in the sack' references, I just know it!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Dean," Castiel said, his face completely without expression as Sam rolled off of his lap and they both stood up. "We will be in a bed, not a sack."

He was fucking with him, the asshole. Any other time and Dean completely would have called him out on it, but he was tired and sore and his brother was a tiger. He threw up his hands and turned to stalk off towards the kitchen to see about scrounging up a snack and pulling out some of the ground beef to thaw for Sam to eat tomorrow.

"It's curious, you being changed into a Caspian tiger," he heard Castiel say to Sam from behind him. "You're the same species as the cubs I brought back that one time are...."

**S** AM WAS STILL a tiger the next morning. Dean hid his dismay - so much for the spell breaking on a time delay with the rising of the sun, as the one book he'd managed to slog through the night before had suggested - and put a plate of lightly cooked hamburger patties on the table, then dragged two of the chairs side by side and tied the legs together with some rope to form a makeshift bench that Sam could get up on to reach the table with some degree of comfort. Sam gave him an embarrassed huff along with the grateful look and climbed up onto the chairs which, mercifully, held beneath the huge tiger's weight.

"So get this," Dean said as he sat down across the table from Sam with his own plate, smirking at the feline glare his brother shot him. "There are fifteen books in English in the Men of Letters library that deal with transformation magic and, if Babelfish isn't fucking with me worse than that one chick in Modesto, twelve more in Spanish, French, Latin, Greek, Aramaic, and some dude's handwritten notes in, like, Russian or something Cyrillic mixed up with Hebrew."

Sam lifted his head at that, half of a patty hanging out of his mouth and ears swivelled in Dean's direction. Dean gave himself a mental pat on the back. If there was one thing he could count on, it was Sammy's eager thirst for learning new and interesting things. Magic books in other languages? Some old guy's handwritten notebook in a mixed-language cypher? Yeah, that was just the kind of nerdy shit Sam loved.

"We can tackle the stack after breakfast, promise. I only got through one of the English books last night," he added, looking down at his plate and messing around with trying to get a forkful of eggs and cheese in order to avoid meeting Sam's abruptly much heavier stare, "and it wasn't very helpful. Best guess is that you, me and Cas can get through them all in less than a week, 'specially if you got me and Cas turning pages for you. Dunno what you'd be able to do for taking notes, though. Hey, think you can type like that?"

Sam gave a low and pointed growl, making Dean look up. Slowly, the tiger raised one massive paw and then flexed to extend five wickedly curved and sharp-looking claws. Dean winced, his brother's point well taken, and sighed.

"Maybe Cas can take notes for the both of you," he muttered. "He's the one who can actually understand everything you're saying like this. Oh, you know what I mean!" he added when the tiger huffed and gave him a hurt look with ears lowered. "I've known you too long not to be able to understand you whatever shape you're in, but that doesn't mean I get the whole word-for-word translation running through my head like subtitles!"

Sam's eyes unfocused, or perhaps they simply refocused on some distant middle point of reality, teeth and tongue working together with an absent-minded air to pull the rest of the burger patty into his mouth and catch the stray drops of partially cooked cow blood and grease left behind in the short fur around his muzzle. Dean guessed that he was probably thinking of how one would go about creating a dictionary or translation algorithm from tiger to human English. Whatever. Dean would nudge him to keep eating if he forgot about the food for longer than five minutes. He didn't intend to mention it unless Sam forced his hand, but he'd also looked up just how much an adult male tiger needed to eat to stay healthy, and aside from feeling a vague sense of unease over tapping into the old Men of Letters accounts to afford that much meat, Dean was bound and determined that Sam would not be getting away with skipping meals as a tiger the way he did far too much as a human.

Castiel chose that moment to come into the kitchen, already wearing his coat over a pair of jeans that probably belonged to Sam and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt that definitely belonged to Dean but somehow kept ending up in Sam's room even though he never wore it. Dean made a mental note to find a mall somewhere and get a few more of those shirts since it was obvious that Sam was borrowing it for Castiel. He shot his brother a smirk and eyebrow waggle that the tiger pretended not to notice, handing over a mug of coffee when Castiel reached him.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel said, apparently also ignoring the look Dean was shooting Sam. "Sam, please finish that mouthful and continue eating. Your current body requires a much greater number of calories to maintain than your human body."

Sam started out of his thoughts upon being addressed directly, looking over at them both guiltily as the fallen piece of burger dropped away from his mouth. It bounced off the edge of the table and down onto the chairs, leading to a quick scramble to catch it before it could go any further that nearly upset the chairs before Castiel set his hand against the conjoined backs and held it steady for him. He smiled when Sam gave the hand a lick that even Dean could tell was affectionate and left his hand where it was as he sipped his coffee.

"So what's got you looking so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning, Cas?" Dean asked, gesturing up and down the angel's casually clothed form with his fork when the angel raised an eyebrow at him over his coffee mug. "You're all dressed and coated up."

Castiel gave an understanding hum that was simultaneously muffled and amplified by the mug and swallowed the mouthful of coffee. "I had intended to pop in on Meg this morning and make sure that her current protections against Crowley are holding while making inquiries about Sam's current predicament. In addition to ensuring that she does not fall into Crowley's hands while possessing sensitive knowledge about us and Sam in particular, seeing to her continued safety may make her more inclined to assist."

The last sentence was obviously directed at Sam and meant as a reassurance to his boyfriend-slash-maybe-lover or whatever the hell they were to each other, so Dean kept quiet and got up to get himself another cup of coffee since he'd pretty much just given Castiel his own mug. Sam on the other hand - paw? - gave a low and rumbling growl followed by a huff and a weird little double-hiccup that had Dean raising both eyebrows to hear. Castiel, however, looked taken aback.

"Are you sure, Sam? I know you do not trust her, and you have more reason than most to be rightfully wary of trusting demons--" He was interrupted by another, louder growl. It actually sounded to Dean like someone had recorded a particularly deep-voiced cat meowing and played it back with the bass cranked up to max. "Very well, I will make the offer if it becomes necessary, unless Dean objects."

"Uh-uh, nope, do not ask me that question I'm trying not to think you want to ask," Dean said, not turning around to look at them. Coffee had never been so fascinating as when he didn't want to acknowledge a demonic pink elephant. "I'd say no, you'll do it anyway, and then I'll be an ass because you did and that'll just stress Sam out even worse than you doing the thing I'm not acknowledging you talking about doing literally behind my back, so just... if you're gonna do it then do it but don't put me in the position to have to condone it before it happens?"

"That is remarkably considerate and self-aware of you, Dean," Castiel said after a heavy silence. Dean gave a half-hearted shrug and set the decanter back in its cradle under the drip.

"My brother is a tiger," he said, inanely and a little unnecessarily as he picked up the mug to take a long sip. "And he got it worse from demons than me, so he gets to make the call about your Nightingale."

There was another heavy silence, during which Dean could just imagine the Looks being exchanged between angel and tiger, and then Sam gave another of those turbo-bass meows with an upward lilt.

"Sam is expressing surprise that you would say such a thing given how often you have berated him for trusting Ruby in the past," Castiel translated helpfully when Dean remained silent.

"Look," Dean said, putting down the mug before turning to face them again and folding his arms across his chest. "I'm really bad at this emotional introspection shit, you both know that by now. Sammy, you even know why. So listen up, 'cause I'm gonna try and get this out and I don't know how well it's gonna go." They both nodded, and Dean mimicked them while trying not to stare at the bizarre sight of a tiger nodding. He scrubbed a hand down over his face and sighed. "Okay, so... Being alone in Purgatory didn't give me a whole lot of time to think about shit until I ran into Benny, but after that, with someone around to watch my back? Gave me a lot more time to think about who I'd rather have had watching my back, and all the shit I put him through for other shit that wasn't his - your - fault. We were manipulated, me by the winged dickmonkeys - no offense, Cas - and you by those same dickmonkeys plus a demon who was doing her damnedest to make you think you could trust her, was giving you options and choices to go along with the partyline everyone, Heaven and Hell both, was saying about killing Lilith being a good thing as far as Earth and humanity would be concerned. And given the shit Meg and her yellow-eyed old man put you through, Ruby must've been really going all out to get you to trust her, shit I don't know about 'cause we don't talk about those months I was down there. So. There's probably a lot more about what was going on after I got back that I don't know 'cause we weren't so good at talking then, either, and most of that's on me, but it did finally dawn on me in Purgatory that Ruby's whole schtick with earning your trust and then it all being a lie probably made you, like, even less likely to trust a demon ever again than even me. And bringing her up all the time like I was doing was a dick move I didn't need to make and I'm sorry."

Blue and yellow-green eyes stared at him, unblinking, for a long moment before Sam turned to look at Castiel and gave a small huff and whine.

"He is not possessed, nor is he being impersonated by a shifter or Leviathan, and there are no enchantments currently affecting him beyond residual concern over your own," Castiel murmured back to him. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, it's a blue moon or some shit, I'm cashing in my annual chick flick moment chip and owning up that I'm an ass and apologizing for being an ass to you," he grumbled, grabbing the coffee mug up again and stalking back over to his own chair and probably cold eggs and bacon. Sam made a face that caused his whiskers to fluff up and curl, eyes squeezed shut, and Dean huffed at him. "Bitch."

Sam gave a short, half-growled turbo-bass noise that needed no translation.

**C** ASTIEL LEFT TO see Meg after Sam finished eating everything on his plate. Dean went ahead to the library so he wouldn't have to watch them rubbing faces, and by the time Sam joined him Dean had two of the chairs tied front to front at the legs with the arms making a kind of elongated nest for Sam to sit in. Dean pulled his own chair up to the end of the table so he could act as page-turner for his brother, and the two of them settled in for what Dean hoped would be a productive research session even though it was unlikely to be a fast one.

He was right. Dean lost track of time in the silence that was regularly broken by Sam's short grunts followed by the turning of the pages. The alarm on his phone beeped lunch time before either of them found anything. Lunch was a sandwich for Dean and a plate of sandwich meat for Sam, and then it was back to the books again. This time it was Sam who insisted on a break, jumping out of the chair nest and butting his head against Dean's leg until the older Winchester got up and followed him to the training room where they had the most nerve-wracking wrestling match either of them had ever engaged in outside of actual combat with monsters. Dean finally tapped out and got one of the spare ropes, which he tied up into a bunch of knots and loops. The following tug of war match was a lot less stressful, and by the time Castiel returned and found them sprawled out on the mats, Sam looked much more relaxed and even Dean felt more settled under his skin.

The good feeling didn't last past getting a good look at Castiel's face and his troubled expression as he stood at the edge of the mat. "Cas?"

"Dean. Sam. I..." Castiel trailed off and sighed. "Meg has agreed to do some research on the subject of Sam's transformation."

"But?" Because there had to be a but when demons were involved.

"But... she has given me quite a lot to think about," Castiel admitted. "More than I expected to learn when I proposed speaking with her."

"Is it something that's gonna come and bite us in the ass?" Dean asked, pushing himself to a more upright position as Sam rolled to get his feet under him and stand, padding over to circle Castiel and press against the angel's legs.

"Perhaps, but not through anything Meg might do," Castiel said, blunt in his honesty even as he knelt to run his hands through Sam's fur. "At least, not directly. Given how Heaven has been restructuring without any Archangels to provide the natural leadership and rallying point, it would not be outside the realm of possibility that the other angels might come looking for... what Meg has... if they learned she had it."

Sam put one massive paw on Castiel's shoulder and rumbled softly, which made Castiel smile. Dean tried not to think about what Sam might have been saying to put that expression on the angel's face.

"I'm guessing that whatever she has is important and probably dangerous?" Dean ventured when Castiel seemed disinclined to continue speaking in favor of snuggling up to Sam.

"Very," Castiel shook himself, then looked up. "The Leviathan Tablet was not the only such holy artifact. There are at least two others, the Demon Tablet and the Angel Tablet. Lucifer stole them before his imprisonment and hid them. Of the demonic hierarchy, Lilith and the four Princes of Hell, he told only one where he hid them, and Azazel in turn told his daughter. Crowley had apparently located the Demon Tablet and had intended to abduct Kevin to read the Tablet for him--"

"He still has it?!"

"No, Meg stole it when she escaped from him," Castiel gave Dean an irritated look for the interruption and Dean held up his hands in placation. "As I was saying. She now has the Demon Tablet and is currently retrieving the Angel Tablet, and she is opting to bring both of them here to hide them behind the Bunker's wards in exchange for hiding her as well. She says that Kevin can look at the Tablets if he or we want him to, but she absolutely does not want Crowley to have them and I would rather Naomi not get hold of them either."

"Naomi?"

"The most likely to become the de facto leader of Heaven when the current round of Trials is completed--"

"Wait, _trials_?"

"Not that type of trial, Dean," Castiel huffed, sounding so much like Sam that Dean had to check to see if Sam had been the one saying it and Castiel was just translating. From the way Sam's head was cocked to one side (looking a lot like Castiel did when he was confused by something) Dean guessed not. "Though I suppose in a way the first round was similar in that each angel wishing to be considered for leadership was subjected to the angelic equivalent of a thorough background check. Any determined crimes against Heaven and other angels required answers and explanation and, if necessary, penance."

"They make you go through that?" Dean asked, low and unhappy, the question backed up by Sam's edged growl. Castiel had certainly done a few things that were pretty far off the reservation in the time they'd known him, and that was just what Dean knew about. As angry as he'd been about it, he knew Heaven could be a bag of dicks about some things and he didn't like the way Castiel had twitched over the word "penance"; from the way Sam was crowding closer to Castiel, he didn't like it either.

"The first Trial, yes," Castiel said evenly, though a tiny smile played around his mouth, "and I made clear my abdication of leadership on the condition that whoever is elected to lead Heaven refrains from attempting to restart the Apocalypse several millennia too early. As far as Heaven is concerned I am serving my penance in the form of watching over the two of you and Kevin, and ensuring that Kevin remains safe and that you don't attempt to upset the natural order again."

Sam's whiskers crinkled up and he butted his head against Castiel's shoulder next to where his paw was resting. Dean, however, was less amused. "When were you planning on telling us that you staying in Heaven's good books is conditional on us not breaking the world?"

"When it actually became relevant, as in when either you or Sam start entertaining a plan that could result in 'breaking the world' as you put it," came the immediate and very dry response, complete with air quotes. "I saw no reason to mention it otherwise as knowing could have worried Sam and offended you."

"What, you didn't think I'd be worried about you, too?!"

"I figured that your concern for me would be less than your irritation at the implication that Heaven believes you to be in need of a babysitter," Castiel shot Dean a pointed look as if to say, _Was I wrong? You're offended now, after all_.

Dean felt his face and neck heat. "Kinda got used to that idea since you first started poppin' in on us all the time. Figured 'guardian angel' just meant 'glorified babysitter with wings'. I know that's not what you really are," he added hastily when both Castiel and Sam narrowed their eyes at him. "You're family, as much a brother to me as Sammy. Just... Heaven not trusting us to wipe our own asses without supervision ain't exactly a new thing, here. Them taking our mistakes out on you, though...."

"There is far less danger of that occurring now than there has been in years previous," Castiel pointed out, settling down on the matted floor in order to lean against Sam, who obligingly arranged himself behind Castiel as a back rest. "The Leviathan are returned to Purgatory and the door to Purgatory is shut. You and Sam are both in the same realm and not fighting or working against each other. Unless you decide to let Kevin have a look at the Tablets that Meg is bringing here and he discovers something particularly momentous, I don't anticipate that changing without the appropriate level of advance warning."

"What's the appropriate level of advance warning?" Dean couldn't help but ask.

"None at all," Castiel said in that same perfect deadpan that he'd used yesterday when he was fucking with Dean, "so there is really no point in stressing myself out unduly with worry about hypothetical scenarios that exist in potentia and will inevitably be swept away by whatever you both choose to do instead."

Sam took Dean's slack-jawed silence as an opportunity to nudge up around Castiel until the angel could look down and meet his eyes. Dean watched in morbid fascination, wondering if he and Sammy were ever that freaky with their nonverbal communication, and eventually decided that they probably weren't quite _that_ freaky-- neither Castiel nor Sam looked like they were even blinking, which probably meant Castiel was doing some kind of angel-to-animal telepathy thing. Sam had asked Castiel once how that worked, but Dean hadn't been listening at the time and couldn't remember now what he'd said.

Their bizarre reinterpretation of holy communion didn't last very long. Castiel nodded and got up from the floor, Sam rolling to his feet and shaking out his fur a moment later. Dean made a half-hearted move towards the new rope toy, but Sam gave a grunt and a sigh and moved towards the door. Back to the books then. Dean tried not to look too much like a man going to the gallows as he followed them back to the library.

**M** EG CALLED CASTIEL for pick up the next day, to which Dean reacted with a conflicting mix of relief and trepidation. On the one hand, with Castiel helping them go through the books that weren't in English, they had pretty much exhausted the Men of Letters library as far as transformation magic. On the other hand, this was the only still-living demon with whom he and Sammy had such a lengthy, contentious, and complicated history, even more than Crowley. The only thing that kept him from going on an extended rant to that effect was his promise that Sam got to make the call about bringing her here, and he had, and now Dean needed to be supportive of his brother.

"You know, you get wound any tighter and I'm gonna start calling you Tigger," Dean said with forced nonchalance.

The sideways look Sam shot him should have been a warning. As it was, Dean was caught off guard when Sam perked up his ears and twisted his head around to stare at his tail as he held it aloft and curled it into a very loose corkscrew shape. When he started bouncing around the room in tiny little rabbit-like hops, Dean could have been knocked over with a feather. It took him a moment to scramble for his phone - this kind of footage was pure gold! - but by the time he got it out of his pocket and up in the ready position, Sam had flopped over onto the floor in a lazy-looking sprawl as if he had been like that the whole time, his feline features radiating such a smug "they will never believe you" look that Dean very nearly threw the phone at him. "Bitch. Shouldn't they have gotten here by now?"

"Apologies," Castiel spoke up in dry tones from directly behind Dean, making him jump and scramble to face the angel and the demon from a bit closer to Sam's sharp claws. "I felt it best to hide our tracks from Crowley's search efforts. If Heaven questions me on my... unorthodox flying pattern, I can justify it as protecting my charges from the forces of Hell, assuming they were paying attention at all."

"Right," Dean muttered, reluctantly turning his attention to Meg who looked... not so good. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but are you okay, Meg?"

"Peachy," the demon choked out, still doubled over and slowly sinking to the floor. "Gimme... a minute... or twenty...."

"Angelic flight is rather different from demonic teleportation," Castiel explained with an apologetic glance down at Meg that the demon probably didn't see. "Add to that the five minutes we spent in nanosecond bursts of flight to maintain a state of being simultaneously in every single Biggersons location within North America for five minutes to further confuse our destination before flying directly behind the Bunker's wards, and I'm afraid there was some strain on Meg's corporeal bonds that I could not entirely shield her from."

Dean stared at Castiel, waiting for that to be translated into English because it definitely _sounded_ complicated and a lot worse than normal angel flight, but he had to admit it was going over his head. From the low baritone "yow" that came from Sam, however, his brother was keeping up just fine, as evidenced when Castiel brightened and nodded.

"Yes, Sam, exactly," he said.

Sam gave a longer, softer sort of "murr" and padded over to the edge of the room. He picked up the metal wastebasket carefully in his mouth, large teeth hooking onto the rim, and carried it over to Meg where he set it down next to her knee. Just in time, apparently, because not two seconds later Meg lost the battle with her stomach, lunging for the wastebasket and gagging hard into the depths.

"You're cleaning that up later," Dean told Castiel, getting an eye roll for his troubles. "And the whole simultaneous diner-hopping was really needed?"

"Considering what Meg is carrying with her, I deemed it an advisable precaution," Castiel informed him with a much more grave expression than usual. "Neither Heaven nor Hell should ever see either one of these Tablets, not if we wish to maintain their current relative neutrality."

"Hell's hunting Meg like a pack of hounds after a fox and Heaven's stuck you as on the hook for us messing up the universe and you say that's neutral?"

"I also said it's a relative state. Believe me, their interference in human affairs could be much worse than it is already!"

"You don't have to tell me that, man, it's not like I'm going to just _forget_ about the whole Apocalypse thing any decade soon!"

Sam interrupted them both with a loud growl, causing angel and human to turn. Seeing that he had their attention, he gave them both a reproachful look and then turned his head to nuzzle Meg's leg. The tiger-shaped hunter had situated himself on the floor beside the demon, leaning against her, while Meg draped herself partially over the tiger, still clutching the wastebasket close and taking very slow and measured breaths. Dean had no idea how to measure recovery on something that didn't necessarily require continuous bodily functions like breathing and circulation the way humans did, but he thought Meg's color looked a little closer to normal.

"You," she breathed, "are way... too good... for your own... damn good, kiddo." One hand patted the fur-covered shoulder before seeming to get distracted by the feel of that fur that was a lot thicker for all the softness of it. Sam huffed softly and caught Castiel's eye, staring at him intently.

"Sam wishes to say, uh, 'If you betray us or hurt Cas then I swear by my pretty stripey tail I will end you.' End quote," Castiel recited.

"Gotcha," Meg rasped with a weak grin. "Just don't... bite me... Not keen on... seeing a tiger... jacked on demon blood.... Urk!" Her eyes went wide and she bent over the wastebasket again, retching miserably.

"How much longer is she gonna be like this?" Dean asked, looking at Castiel so he wouldn't have to look at Meg. He was so tempted to try and breathe through his mouth to keep from smelling the bile, but being able to taste it would be so much worse. He didn't know how Sam was coping, being up close and personal with it with that tiger nose of his.

"She is regaining her physical equilibrium rapidly," Castiel said in a way that the angel probably meant to be reassuring. "Another few minutes and she should be steady enough to begin unravelling the transformation spell."

"Not a... transformation spell," Meg gasped. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and then spat into the bucket, her fingers absently petting through Sam's fur in a way that made Dean want to snap at her to back the hell off. She was still visibly unsteady, though, so he grit his teeth and held his tongue.

Mostly.

"What do you mean it's not a transformation spell?" he demanded. "Hello? Giant technically extinct tiger where my giant human brother is supposed to be?"

"He feels tingly," Meg said, then rolled her eyes at the look that crossed Dean's face. "Not like that, horndog. I mean he's got an active magical residue on him. It tingles against my fingers when I pet him. Magical residue from a transformation spell would have dispersed by now. Whatever's done this to your brother, it's not technically a transformation even though he's transformed."

"So we're back at square one,"

"Nah, more like back at square two on a different game board," Meg patted Sam's shoulder and set the wastebasket aside as she shifted to a more upright position. She didn't move to stand up, though, which told Dean that she probably wasn't fully recovered yet. "Good news is the magic residue is pretty much confined to Sam and doesn't transfer, so the spell only really affects him even though you and Clarence here have been residually affected."

"What's that mean?"

"Your brother's a tiger," Meg said with patient deliberation. "And he looks healthy, so you've probably been feeding him more, getting more red meat and such for him. His change still affects you even though the spell doesn't change you in any way, just him."

"Well yeah, he's still my brother!" Dean grumbled.

"Hm," Meg looked as if she would dearly like to say something about that, probably something disparaging about their codependency, but she held herself back from actually voicing whatever it was she was thinking. Instead she said, "It would be easier if I could get inside his head and see the memory of the fight, but--"

"That's not happening."

"Obviously," Meg rolled her eyes again. "Even if Sam _was_ inclined to let me, I can't. Frankly, it would be easier to possess _you_ than him right now and I just don't have that burning desire to get inside your anything."

"Wait, wait, what?" Dean blinked.

Meg stared at him, then looked down at Sam. "You didn't tell him?"

Sam gave a rumble that varied in pitch halfway through and looked up at Castiel.

Castiel blinked. "Oh... I had not realized you would not have necessarily noticed the molecular integration the way I did. If you could roll over onto your side, please, Sam?"

Sam did as Castiel asked, and Dean inched forward to get a better look when Castiel went to one knee and ran his fingers through a densely striped area of Sam's fur on his underbelly up near the underside of his left foreleg.

"The fur conceals it, but the anti-possession symbol is fully integrated into this form as part of the usual tiger skin pigment variations," he said as he parted the fur enough that Dean could see down to the black and peachy colors of Sam's skin. "In essence, the anti-possession symbol is currently an integral part of Sam in a way that the tattoos you both have as humans merely mimics."

"Clarence warned me about it when we were talking about what I can do to help, since that pretty much negates my easiest methods of investigation," Meg added with a shrug. "Fortunately, not my only methods, especially if one of you two actually heard what the witch said when she cast the spell at Sam."

"Too far away," Dean admitted with a grimace. "I didn't hear anything above the ringing in my ears until Sammy started roaring."

Sam grunted, looking up at Castiel who obligingly chimed in, "Sam says that the part he heard most clearly sounded sort of like 'cat of toned porcupines' and that he thinks it might have been Greek."

"Really?" Meg looked pleased. "Did it sound like 'kaló ton Prokópio, afiste to vélos sas'?"

"Yes, exactly," Castiel said as Sam nodded.

"Well, that's a relief!" At the expectant looks, Meg explained, "The spell's not malicious in intent, even if your witchy wonder girl was intending it to be less than benign for you. 'Prokopios's Arrow' is a really old spell that traces back to Circe the Witch Queen. Never seen it do a full body transformation before, but at least you know it's specifically designed not to kill you."

"So what is it doing instead?" Dean asked. It might have been a relief to know that the spell wasn't going to kill Sam, but his brother was still currently a tiger instead of a human.

"The spell acts like a magical catalyst to cause circumstances under which the target - that's you, Sam - is required to confront something specific that he's been ignoring and suppressing but still weighs heavily on him and actively holds him back from achieving happiness. That's the arrow part, pointing the way through like a compass needle, even if the casual student of magic might think it was some kind of combat spell. Chances are your witch figured it would make a nice distraction for you while she escaped, except whatever the spell latched onto in your noodle decided you needed to be a tiger to face it."

"Great," Dean sighed. "How do we break the spell, then?"

"You don't," Meg told him. "Sam does. Or rather, Sam faces up to what's bugging him so much that being a tiger is the best way to get past it. Once he does that, the spell will end and he'll go back to being a different species of gorgeous and lethal mammal."

"Is there anything we can do to help him?" Castiel asked, doing a credible impression of Sam's puppy eyes.

"Short of turning you or Dean into a tiger to keep him company?" Meg shrugged. "Brainstorm shit you think he might be repressing that has to do with tigers somehow, keep him fed and hydrated, maybe get him a giant scratching post...."

"I see," Castiel gave Sam a look of narrow-eyed consideration, then stood up and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Dean blinked. He'd thought Castiel would want to stay as close to Sam as possible under the circumstances.

"I am heading for the storage room that we warded with Enochian for emergencies," Castiel answered dryly, not looking around. "I will return momentarily, but I would rather not draw the attention of anyone watching after the earlier usage of sustained quantum positioning."

Before Dean could ask anything else, Castiel was gone.

**C** ASTIEL DID NOT return to the Bunker before Sam had escorted Meg to one of the Bunker's many bedrooms, much to Dean's disquiet, nor by the time they both returned from what had apparently been something of an impromptu tour of the Bunker that Dean liked even less. He also hadn't returned by the time Dean gave up pacing and went to make another food run in the next town over from Lebanon. Just as he was getting out of the car, he got a text from Sam's phone that read "Get double. -Meg" which made him swear loud enough that a nearby old woman gave him a scandalized look and crossed herself before hurrying away.

Great.

The clerk behind the meat counter looked at him like he was insane when he asked for all the shoulder- and round-roast cuts they had in stock in addition to loading up the cart with ground beef and stew meat. The glare he gave the pimple-faced teenager behind the register forbid even the hint of asking, and luckily for Dean's sanity the kid was quick on the uptake and stayed silent until he had to stammer out the total. Dean forked over one of the fake credit cards that hadn't been used yet and signed Jordan Tanner's name on the receipt. Dean didn't think he'd ever seen a bagger look so relieved to be told the customer didn't need any help out to the car, and he made a mental note not to come back to this grocery store for a year or so.

The drive back to the Bunker with a huge load of raw meat in the back seat did nothing to quell the anxiety that was clawing at Dean's throat over leaving Sam alone with a demon who had a history of tormenting them and Sam in particular. He still tried to keep his breaking the speed limit down below noticeable levels - the last thing he wanted to do was get stopped by a cop and be made even more late while he tried to explain all the meat without sounding like he was illegally keeping extinct wild animals in his basement and talk himself out of getting a ticket or, worse, arrested and made even later while the meat spoiled in the car in the heat - but he still felt a wave of overwhelming relief when he finally pulled his Baby into the Bunker's underground garage.

That lasted up until he got the first load of meat into the kitchen and found that the number of tigers had doubled in his absence.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean huffed, dropping the meat onto the table and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Some more warning would have been nice!"

Because now Meg's text from Sam's phone made sense beyond just her flaunting that she could get into their stuff. The new tiger was slightly smaller than Sam with a slight variance in stripe pattern, but the overall shape of face and ears and body looked roughly identical, meaning the new tiger was probably the same species. Both of them sat on their own makeshift bench-chairs at the kitchen table and appeared to be sharing what looked like a roasting pan full of water. Both had looked up at the sound of his cursing, though neither one looked particularly surprised or alarmed. Dean lowered his hand and sighed.

"Please tell me," he said, looking at Sam, "that Cas knows about your new friend here."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and rumbled in that way he had of simulating a purr with a throat not actually designed to make that sound. The smaller tiger sat up straighter and said, in a voice that was even more deep and gravelly than Dean was used to hearing, "Hello, Dean."

There was a flash of light and the artificial click-whir of a mobile phone snapping a picture. Dean flinched and looked around to see Meg standing in the doorway, Sam's phone held up at the ready. The flash went off again, making him squint, and Meg let out a pleased hum. "You know, I think his expression was actually better than you predicted, Tony!"

"I can still fill a SuperSoaker with holy water, you know," Dean grumbled as he scrubbed a hand over his face. Meg laughed at him, and he sighed. "Okay. New tiger is Cas. Why?"

"Clarence thought my suggestion of turning one of you into a tiger was a brilliant idea," Meg explained with a shrug, lowering the phone and, to Dean's displeasure, putting it into her own pocket. "However, he didn't think you'd want both human members of the Winchester Dream Team sidelined from the hunt for however long this is going to take, so he volunteered himself. Transformation spells don't work on angels _or_ occupied angelic vessels, so he stuck the salaryman suit in one of your store rooms with a temporal dilation ward and went back in time to grab yon striped beauty from the nineteenth century."

"She was shot by a human sport hunter, though not fatally," Castiel spoke up. Dean noticed the growl to the words persisted along with the odd enunciation, which was probably why Castiel was letting Meg do most of the talking. "I replaced her with a lifeless copy for the human to find and brought her here to heal her and transfer my essence to her from Jimmy."

"He means possess her," Meg "helpfully" clarified. "And he waited to do that here so he'd be behind the really strong angel wards when he did it so he won't get in trouble for taking a non-human vessel."

"You're not supposed to take vessels that aren't human?" Dean asked, looking at Castiel. "They aren't gonna throw you back on trial for this if they find out, right?"

"It is frowned upon, not forbidden, because animals are not able to give informed consent the way humans can," Castiel corrected. "At most, I would get a lecture over taking a tiger from her original time for something they deem frivolous." Castiel shrugged, which looked no less strange coming from him in tiger form than it did from Sam. "As I have broken several far more serious rules many times before this, I am unconcerned with breaking this one."

Meg made a low sound that sounded almost like a purr, but her expression was only amused when Dean glanced in her direction. Dean glanced at Sam and saw that his brother was also looking at Meg with an expression that Dean would recognize anywhere, even on tiger features. He gave a purely internal sigh and said aloud, "Well, great, so long as Cas isn't gonna get hauled up before the courts of Heaven again for being a good boyfriend or whatever. Since those two are both tiger-fied now, Meg, you get to help me bring the rest of this beef inside before it leaks blood all over my baby."

"I'm only agreeing because I don't want the meat to spoil if you take too long on your own and end up making Clarence or Tony sick," Meg told him as she followed him out to the garage.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, demonic posturing, blah, blah, blah," Dean rolled his eyes. He turned to face her when they got to the Impala. "And speaking of demonic posturing and uncharacteristic behavior, you're acting very concerned over Cas's health and well-being for an evil body-snatching puff of smoke."

"Calm your overprotective brother routine, Triggerhappy," Meg drawled as she rolled her eyes. "As difficult as it may be for you to believe, I want Clarence happy, and he's happiest with your brother. It wasn't even a choice for him. Maybe if things had been different and Sam hadn't been as receptive to the little treetopper's overtures I might've had a shot, but as much as he cares about me it really is not like that." She smirked. "Not saying it isn't all kinds of hot seeing an angel talk about breaking rules like that in there."

"Angelic bad boy does it for you?" Dean snorted.

"You have _no_ idea," Meg purred, though her expression was more wistful than salacious. "Unfortunately for me, playing caretaker to a crazy angel warped something in me and I'm kinda good now." She huffed a humorless laugh. "Which really sucks in terms of ever having a place in Hell again. Too soft for Hell, too damned for Heaven."

"Guess that kinda makes Earth your only option," Dean said, feeling an unwelcome twist of sympathy. He cleared his throat and grabbed a couple of bags of meat and handed them over. "How much do you actually need to eat, anyway?"

"About as much as any other human if I want to conserve power instead of using it to hold my body together," Meg answered. "Original occupant's gone ever since the Apocalypse, so it's just a brain dead body running automatic functions if I leave, kinda like Clarence's human suit. Why?"

"I was gonna ask if you like burgers."

There was a long moment of silence, during which Dean collected a few more of the meat-filled bags, and then Meg said, "Yeah, I guess so. Kinda partial to them with cheese."

"Guess I know what's for lunch tomorrow, then," Dean nodded and turned to head towards the kitchen. "Everyone but the tigers gets pizza for dinner tonight, so if you have preferred toppings for pizza write 'em on the pad by the phone so I know what to order."

There was another lengthy silence, during which Dean resolutely did not look around behind him to see if Meg really was staring at him the way the hairs standing up on the back of his neck were saying see was. Just before they reached the door to the kitchen, he heard her murmur a quiet "alright then" at his back.

Dean pretended not to see the approving looks he was getting from the tigers who had probably heard every damn word they'd said. Whatever. So long as they didn't go getting any ideas that he was suddenly pro-demon because he was willing to cut this one a little slack. And if she _was_ running a long con to eventually betray them, having her close and his weapons closer could only be a good thing. In the meantime, he could be civil at the very least, try and keep Sam's stress down without waging war against their hopefully temporary houseguest.

He wished he sounded as certain of that "temporary" designation in his own head as he wanted.

**W** ITH MEG'S MAGICAL diagnosis of Sam's current transformation not actually being transformation magic, the books Dean had pulled out for research all went back on the shelves of the library. Dean had a different research project now, and this one was not something he wanted Sam or Castiel to help with. He didn't exactly want Meg's help, either, but she was there and bored with the tigers spending pretty much all their time together in Sam's room except when they came out for meals and to be social, so Dean reluctantly let her join him in the library and explained in the shortest manner possible that he was looking for ways to neutralize a demon.

To his surprise, Meg had looked thoughtful and then set to work on finding books in the library that she thought might help. This had turned into a half-hour rant on the haphazard organization of the library, the only part of it that made any sense being the section that Sam had already managed to catalogue and reorganize. When he told her that, Meg had gone off to find Sam and get him to explain his system to her so that she wouldn't mess it up in the course of continuing to reorganize and catalogue "this travesty of a mismatched pile of outdated pop culture and genuinely useful manuscripts". Dean refused to admit that he found her vehemence about the state of the library in any way endearing or similar to Sam's previous rants on the subject, but he got her one of Sam's spare notepads to make a list of books she knew of that ought to be added to the collection.

And so life continued in the Bunker with a surprisingly minimal amount of friction for a demon, two hunters, and an angel sharing living space. Dean's only real objection was the fact that, as tigers, neither Sam nor Castiel were capable of putting a sock on the damn door, so Dean had gotten an eyeful on more than one occasion until he learned to distinguish the specific pitch of roaring the two used when they were banging. Unfortunately, that didn't really make things any better because now he _knew_ when they were getting busy without having to walk in on them and, as happy as he was for his little brother finally getting laid on the regular, he was getting laid a lot more than Dean himself was!

When the call came in from Jody, he very nearly cried from relief. Finally, a distraction! Except it turned out to not be that much of a distraction since all Jody really needed was some information to put together what she was dealing with. From the description she gave, it sounded like a rawhead, so Dean gave her the rundown on how to deal with one including a mostly humorous directive not to get herself electrocuted. The attempted joke had required some explanation about the time Dean had been the one electrocuted and how Sam had found a faith healer that had led to them discovering the man's wife was keeping a Reaper enslaved to kill people she didn't like by transferring the maladies from the people her husband "healed" to those she'd deemed amoral.

 _"You boys sure do live exciting lives,"_ Jody commented.

"I could do with a little less excitement some days," Dean sighed, then added hastily, "Not too much less, 'cause me and boredom don't mix well and Sammy isn't in any shape to go hunting right now anyway."

_"What's wrong with Sam?"_

"Nothing's really _wrong_ , just not normal. Witch hit him with this spell that turned out to be some mostly benign 'face your issues' shit but Winchester luck strikes again and it turned him into a tiger."

 _"Sounds like bad luck for the witch,"_ Jody remarked, to which Dean agreed. _"Any luck changing him back?"_

"Cas is on the case, and I'm just fine with letting him take point on this one. He'll let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

_"That's surprisingly relaxed for you, Dean. Normally you'd be chomping at the bit to do something to fix whatever was going on."_

"I like to think I'm growing as a person," Dean snarked, though his smile softened a little when Jody laughed. "Honestly, there ain't much else I can really do with my brother a literal tiger except be here if he needs me and feed him, and I got that pretty well covered. The rest is up to him, and much as I might wanna try and jump in to do it for him I can't. So I do what I can and I wait until they need my help again and I answer phones to talk about rawheads and Reapers."

_"Just rolling with the punches?"_

"Kinda necessary for a hunter, y'know? World goes nuts too much to let it phase you. Besides," he added with another attempt at humor, "after watching my brother turn into a tiger and still be a giant bookworm, I don't think anything can phase me anymore."

"Castiel's pregnant," Meg announced from the doorway.

Dean blinked.

Meg sighed.

"Hey, Jody?" Dean said. "You know how I said nothing can phase me anymore?"

_"Yeah?"_

"I stand corrected."

Jody let him go after extracting a promise from him to call her back later to fill her in on the situation. Dean took a moment to just stand there and breathe for a moment the way Sam frequently did when he needed a moment to switch gears on whatever new potentially world-ending crisis just popped up and honked a rubber nose at him. To his surprise, he did actually feel a little bit calmer when he opened his eyes again. Meg was still standing in the doorway, though she was watching him with an odd expression Dean didn't feel up to deciphering right at the moment; one crisis at a time.

"Okay," he said. "I'm gonna need alcohol. No, wait. Explanation first while I'm sober and hopefully rational, _then_ alcohol to cope with the explanation."

"You really _are_ growing as a person," Meg snorted, proving that she'd been listening at the door for a bit before dropping that little bombshell of hers... well, of Castiel's, technically. "They're in Sam's room."

"Dunno why they don't just call it _their_ room," Dean muttered as he moved towards the hallway. Meg fell into step beside him.

"It gives Sam more of a feeling of control over some aspect of his life," she answered, even though Dean had meant it rhetorically. He gave her a sideways look and she elaborated. "Look, I'm sure I don't need to tell _you_ how much Sam felt like his life was out of his own control even before I took him for a spin that one time, and I'm owning up to how that was a bad thing and undoubtedly made it worse. Thing is, I was just the first to do that to him, and Lucifer wouldn't have just taken him on a joy ride over a cliff. So, he's still coming to grips with the idea that this secret underground clubhouse you've got here might actually be more than just the latest in a long line of temporary stopovers, and it might not even really sink in until you've been living here for years. Like, longer than Stanford."

"And having his own room that he calls his helps," Dean hummed. Not like that wasn't understandable. He'd done something similar with declaring the kitchen "his" and actually making an effort to learn how to cook. He'd thought that's what Sam was doing with the library, but apparently his little brother needed more than a room full of books and a couple weeks of the same bed sheets on a brand new memory foam mattress to call a place his own.

With that in mind, he knocked on the door to the bedroom Sam had claimed and Castiel had all but moved into, waiting until he heard Sam's turbo-bass mewl followed by Castiel's "come in" before he opened it and stepped inside. "Hey. Meg says Cas is having kittens."

**T** HE CONVERSATION LASTED only about an hour, which was a relief to all parties. Dean made sure to cover the relevant confusions - Castiel's tiger vessel was female, his human vessel was male, and Castiel himself was an angel and neither male nor female, _Dean_ \- and had carefully made the equally relevant inquiries about possible reprisals from Heaven over this, given that Nephilim _were_ forbidden. Sam had not liked that part of the conversation at all, and Dean had needed to retreat to the wall while Castiel calmed the tiger-shaped hunter down again. Even so, Sam practically plastered himself against Castiel and continued to look agitated throughout the rest of the conversation before Dean and Meg excused themselves to get very drunk and put up the wards Castiel had suggested respectively.

The hangover from Dean's drinking the night before lasted until noon the next day. Mindful of Castiel's warning that he should avoid using his Grace for very much to avoid too much of his Grace fusing with the kittens ("They're called cubs, Dean." "Whatever!") Dean made use of more traditional hangover remedies rather than seek out angelic healing. When his head was no longer threatening to split apart, he made burgers and brought a large plate of them to Sam's room before tracking down Meg. He wasn't too surprised to find her in the library pouring over another huge book on warding.

"Hey," he said as he set a second plate with two burgers with cheese on them on the table near her elbow. "You okay?"

"The one person who's really honestly given a shit about me since you killed my dad is pregnant with illegal kids thanks to your brother's unresolved issues and I can't do anything to protect him except research the crazy hodgepodge wards on this place to see if we can make them stronger," Meg grumbled as she rubbed her eyes and sat back from the book. "Furthermore, I'm about sixty-seven percent sure that I contributed to creating those issues in him that's resulting in the whole situation going down, which is giving me all kinds of really undemon-like feelings of _guilt_ and shit. Oh, yeah, I'm just fucking peachy, thanks for asking."

"Pretty sure you don't have that much to do with Sam's issues about feeling unworthy of Cas and happiness in general," Dean offered as he sat down across from her with his own plate. "Your dad, sure, giving the order to kill his college girlfriend and rip his attempt at a safe and normal life to shreds, but you? Most that might could be pinned on you directly is if you taunted him about him never getting to have good things without something coming along to destroy it and there wasn't that much history to pull from when you hijacked him back then."

"I can't actually tell if you're trying to be reassuring or not,"

Dean couldn't really tell either, if he was being honest, but he wasn't about to admit that. Instead, he changed the subject to one he was pretty sure Meg would be glad to accept. "So, Cas gave us those extra Enochian wards, but I'm betting any wards he knows are ones that the other angels know, too. However, I haven't met too many angels who were big on creativity and thinking outside the box and until Sam calms down he's not gonna be much use on that front except in checking whatever you and I come up with to mix ward schemes that won't blow us up or exclude the option for built-in exceptions."

"Can't put up anti-angel wards if they're going to hurt Clarence or the cubs, huh?" Meg snarked, but the words lacked bite and she looked interested. Shooting a brief glance towards the hallway that led to the store rooms, she bit her lip. "I really don't want to suggest it, but it might be worth getting that prophet kid to look at the Angel Tablet and see if there's anything there that wouldn't be mainstream angelic knowledge."

"Let's table that as a last resort after we've exhausted the books," Dean said, remembering Castiel's cautions about how dangerous the tablets were. "You good with it still being on the table if that last resort comes to pass?"

"For Castiel?" Meg looked up, a far too familiar look in her eyes as she met Dean's. "Anything."

 _Let's hope it doesn't come to "anything",_ Dean thought with a sigh as he cracked open the first book to start reading up. This probably wouldn't take too long anyway. They'd been using a mix of wards for years already, after all. How hard could it be?

A week later, the question was made moot.

The first thing Dean knew about the intruder was the red lights and blaring alarms filling the Bunker. Barely a half-second behind was a roar that echoed through the Bunker at levels that Dean knew would have been deafening if he'd been in the same room. Demonic reaction time meant Meg was on her feet and sprinting from the kitchen first, though Dean wasted no time in grabbing up the nearest weapon to hand and following her.

The scene they came upon was a tableau out of some bizarre nature documentary. Sam stood aggressively between Castiel and the intruder, teeth still bared in a snarl from his earlier roar, the fur on his back and shoulders standing up to make him look even larger than his already huge size. Castiel, for his part, was crouched behind Sam, not relaxed or passive but less overtly threatening. Since neither of them appeared hurt, just angry and wary respectively, Dean turned his attention to the intruder.

The short stature and slender build was unexpected, but Dean knew better than to assume that meant the female-shaped being was weak. No demon could have gotten in unless they were a hell of a lot stronger than Meg and Castiel wouldn't be so relatively calm with an unknown demon in the mix, which probably meant this was an angel. She certainly had the same perfect posture and practically blank expression that most of the angels Dean had "met" did, but unlike them she had not drawn an angel blade when faced with a very angry and defensive tiger. Even when she turned her head and looked at Dean and Meg, it was with more curious assessment than any real hostility. Her eyebrows went up when she glanced at the weapon Dean was holding, but that was all, and she turned back to face the tigers again.

"You have quite the collection of defenders, Castiel," she said, and there was a strange, almost deferential note to her voice. "You need not feel concern. I am not here to harm anyone."

"We've heard the 'be not afraid' spiel before," Dean pointed out. Sam growled in agreement. The angel inclined her head.

"Fair enough," she said, "though I would ask that you please not hit me with your frying pan. My vessel tells me that cast iron is expensive and hard to replace, and I doubt you would wish to damage it."

There was a moment of silence, during which Dean looked at the angel while everyone else looked at Dean... or rather, what Dean was holding at the ready with which to strike. Slowly, he turned his head to look at his "weapon" which, just as the angel had said, was the cast iron skillet he had been cooking their hamburger lunch in moments before, the interior still shiny with beef fat residue. The silence was broken by a low rumble from Sam that had entirely too much amusement packed into it for an animal sound, but that Castiel "helpfully" translated anyway.

"'Way to break with the gender stereotypes, Dean'," the smaller tiger said in a credible (if still somewhat growl-laden) imitation of Sam's usual cadences.

"Yeah, well, somebody around here has to with you going all protective alpha male over there," Dean grumbled, awkwardly lowering the frying pan and trying not to think about how many little puddles and spatters of grease there now were between there and the kitchen. "Cas, who's our uninvited visitor, anyway?"

"I believe this is Hannah," Castiel said, turning to look at the angel who inclined her head in acknowledgement. "She was one of the Garrison Commanders during the war against Raphael, though not one with whom I had much direct contact. Why she is here now, I do not know."

"I will be glad to explain my presence here, if no further shows of violence will be forthcoming?" Hannah arched one eyebrow. Meg snorted and Dean scowled, but both of them adopted slightly more casual stances. Sam gave her a narrow-eyed look, but allowed his hackles to settle back down as he turned pointedly away from her to nuzzle Castiel.

"I am fine, my love," Castiel rumbled softly, making Dean's eyebrows shoot up. He knew the two of them could do that freaky silent communication thing, having seen them do it before on more than one occasion, so Castiel speaking out loud had to be deliberate and, most likely, for the "benefit" of the angel watching them with a bemused expression that Dean wasn't sure he liked. "Please continue, Hannah."

"Has Castiel informed you of the restructuring of Heaven's leadership?" she began, looking towards Dean and Meg. Both nodded and Sam gave an affirmative grunt, so she continued. "Most of the Trials have now been completed and, at present, there are four of us who are poised to be elected as Heaven's new leader: Joshua, Dumah, myself, and Castiel."

"Not Naomi?" Meg asked at the same time that Dean said, "I thought Cas said he wasn't interested in being the leader!"

"Naomi was a contender for a time, but her actions to reprogram and repurpose so many of the Host over the millennia, whether at the behest of the Archangels or their lieutenants, caused considerable unease among many," Hannah said, nodding to Castiel. "There is currently an effort among the surviving Rit Zien to check over those of us who remain and attempt to restore stolen or rewritten memories, particularly after Castiel's participation in the first Trial brought to light how many times his memories were tampered with."

"Cas?" Dean swiveled his head back to look at the smaller tiger, who was currently submitting to letting Sam lick the backs of his ears with his huge tongue.

"I have apparently always been something of a troublemaker among the angels," Castiel said in an even tone. His eyes were squeezing shut, though Dean couldn't tell if that was smugness or simple pleasure in Sam's ministrations. "Until the Trials began, I did not recall just how much that was the case, but the Apocalypse was not the first instance that I questioned my orders and doubted the plans of Heaven. As a mere soldier, there was little I could do except be reconditioned again and again to remove my doubts."

"And now he is a Seraph, resurrected by our Father as such when Sam halted the Apocalypse by imprisoning Lucifer and Michael in the Cage." Hannah spoke up. "There are many who still see this as a sign of our Father's favor towards him, particularly when he is still alive even after the breaching and consumption of the souls of Purgatory."

"Not everyone," Castiel mumbled, barely audible over Sam's growl and the redoubled licking. Dean wondered if there was going to be any fur left on Castiel's ears by the time his brother was done, the way he was going; he knew how rough that barbed tongue was. Hannah... sighed.

"Not everyone," she agreed. "However, many of those who would not support Castiel alone _do_ support me. Compared to me or Castiel or Joshua, Dumah has very little support, and Joshua has stated numerous times that he is content to tend the Garden and offer what counsel he can to all angels rather than be declared leader. I wished to speak to Castiel... to you," she addressed Castiel directly now, "about the possibility of leading Heaven together as a team, with mutual support and restraint as needed and Joshua's counsel to aid us when we both falter."

"Got a couple of complications with that," Dean said after a moment, when it became obvious that Castiel wasn't going to say anything immediately. Meg hissed a little, but Dean ignored her to step forward and cross his arms over his chest. The frying pan made that awkward, but he adjusted his hold on it and continued, "First off, I doubt you've missed how attached Cas is to Sammy, never mind me and Meg here, and we're pretty attached to him, too. Dragging him back up to Heaven away from us ain't gonna end well."

"Castiel would not be required to remain in Heaven, merely visit at regular intervals and allow me to visit him here so that we may best coordinate our policies and stances on matters of Heaven's governing," Hannah said, though she was smiling. "There are none in Heaven who do _not_ know how attached Castiel is to the Winchester family, although there was some initial confusion over which one he was more attached to than the other and in what manner." She was definitely smiling as she added, "If angels used currency of any kind, much money would have changed hands as bets were won and lost when Castiel declared his intent to Court your brother instead of you."

"Me?!" Dean wrinkled his nose. "No. No offense, Cas, but you just really ain't my type even if you weren't already head over striped tail for Sammy."

"None taken," Castiel said with a dry rumble. "You are also not my 'type', Dean, however much affection I feel for you as a brother."

"Those of us watching your interactions after the initial contact did figure that out, even if many of us were too caught up in the presumption that the Guardianship bond would pull you together romantically," Hannah chuckled. Dean got the feeling that she must have been one of the angels who'd been betting on Castiel and Sam hooking up and felt a little better.

His good feeling immediately plummeted when he remembered why it was Cas and Sam were currently tigers and why the presence of a strange angel had been such cause for alarm. "There's, uh, there's one other reason that might make Cas taking over Heaven with you difficult," he started, uncrossing his arms and rubbing the back of his neck with the hand not holding the frying pan.

"If you are about to obliquely refer to the cubs that Castiel is currently carrying within his womb, I am already aware," Hannah said.

"You are?!" three voices of varying timbres yelped in conjunction with a startled bass yowl. Hannah looked around at them and raised an eyebrow.

"As with the knowledge of Castiel's affections for Winchesters," she said, very dry and unimpressed, "there is also not a single angel in Heaven who did not feel it when the cubs were first conceived, even through the wards on this building." Seeing that their alarm had not lessened with this pronouncement, Hannah raised her eyebrows. "Castiel is hardly the first angel to find love with a human, though such cases are more rare than those angels who sought only to sate sexual desires in beings with whom coupling was not an automatic bonding of Grace to Grace, and a bond between Grace and Soul is not nearly so automatic.

"This latter instance - and the resulting offspring of angels who were uninterested in taking responsibility for their progeny by humans - were why the creation of Nephilim were originally banned, to curtail the angry and frightened rampages of untrained and unchecked children with little to no guidance in a time when superstition ran more wildly than wildebeests. There are still a handful of Nephilim alive who were taught and cared for by their angelic parent and who stay under the radar enough that Heaven has turned a blind eye to their existence. A few angels who support Castiel as Heaven's leader have ventured to speculate if this means those Nephilim's angelic parents may visit their offspring openly in the future." She paused again; Dean was really starting to hate these dramatic pauses. "While Castiel has gone about the creation of his Nephilim rather differently than any other angel, this does mean that it is unnecessary for him to bind his Grace to Sam's soul to ensure he survives the delivery, as has always been the case with the human women who gave birth to an angel's child."

Sam looked startled, and turned to Castiel with a low growl that shifted halfway through into an uncertain mewl. Dean watched in bemusement as Castiel's tiger features actually softened as he looked up at Sam and licked the larger tiger's cheek.

"Sam asked if Castiel was sure he'd be okay and that he'll bond with Castiel formally if that's what Castiel and the cubs need to be safe," Meg murmured from her place near Dean's elbow. "Castiel said that he meant it when he said Sam should take his time to decide about that and that he's known for years that Sam's not the type to leave his mate alone to raise their cubs."

"Damn right, he's not," Dean mumbled back, trying not to wince as pangs of guilt over Ben and Emma tried to rear their heads up out of the box he'd stuffed their memories into. He hadn't been given a choice with Emma, and Ben... Ben wasn't his son by blood, Lisa had said so, and they were both safer without him dragging demons and other supernatural dangers to their doorstep. Being a Dad just wasn't in the cards for him, it seemed, but he could sure as hell be a super awesome uncle to his little brother's human-angel-tiger hybrid kids. Noticing that his brother and best friend were still rumbling softly to each other, he asked, "What're they saying now?"

"Castiel told Sam that he should probably return to human form now if he thinks he's ready," Meg answered, beginning to sound amused. "Sam asked if he was sure that was a good idea, and Clarence said that he can tell that the spell made it so Sam can return to tiger form whenever and he's looking forward to trying out sex without the barbs on Sam's--"

"Okay, yes, thank you, that's enough of that!" Dean exclaimed, nearly dropping the frying pan in his haste to put up his hands in surrender. He wasn't exactly sorry he asked, but he could have done without the mental imagery Meg's talk of "barbs" was giving him. Ow. "So, spell broken? Sammy can turn back to human now?"

"If he wants to, yeah," Meg nodded. "And he can turn back to tiger whenever he wants, too, if Clarence is right which, considering how up close and personal he's been with your brother and the fact that they're expecting _cubs_... Remember, this spell's supposed to force your brother to face the thing he's been avoiding, not give him new ways to avoid it."

"Spell?" Hannah asked curiously. Dean jumped; he'd forgotten she was there.

"Prokopsis's Arrow," Meg supplied. "These guys thought it was a transformation spell and called me when they couldn't figure out how to break it."

"A more metaphysical transformation of self made literal?" Hannah glanced at the pair of tigers, her eyes briefly lighting up with Grace as she studied them, and then smiled softly. The expression didn't exactly transform her face, but it did make her look less like a disapproving social worker as far as Dean was concerned. "Well, it seems the spell has indeed run its course. Castiel, I assume you will be remaining in your current vessel until after your cubs are weaned?"

"Perhaps sooner," Castiel rumbled. "This will not be the first time that we have cared for infant cubs."

"More tiger formula," Dean sighed. "Great. Just hope the stores in town carry powdered calcium carbonate and canned goat's milk."

"At least you know you won't need the prescription strength Allegra this time," Sam said.

Dean nodded. Blinked. Jerked his head up and stared.

Sam was sitting next to Castiel, stark naked and back to having his usual amount of hair and number of limbs. His seated position and crossed legs were all that preserved his modesty, though not enough if the purr from Meg was any indication. To Dean's further surprise, though Sam's cheeks turned a bit pink, he didn't look particularly discomfited to be sitting in his room naked with his brother, a demon, and an angel all staring at him.

"What?" he said, his shoulders lifting and falling in a shrug. "I've only got three months to study for looking after kids and tiger cubs since we're _definitely_ not taking these two to the wildlife rehabilitation center, and I'm gonna need hands to use my laptop."

 _That's my Sammy,_ Dean thought as he let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in a relieved laugh. Self-discovery and new resolutions aside, some things just didn't change. Even turned into a tiger or mated to an angel who was about to become the co-ruler of Heaven, his brother was still a total nerd.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

**=End=**

**Author's Note:**

> Caspian Tigers, one of the largest recorded subspecies of tiger in the world and the subspecies to which Castiel's rescuees belong, have been considered extinct since the 1970s; Bali Tigers are considered extinct since the 1930s; Javan Tigers have only been considered extinct since the 1980s. The six remaining subspecies (Siberian, Bengal, Malayan, Indochinese, South China, and Sumatran) range from endangered to critically endangered. For more information on tigers and tiger conservation efforts, go to [Tigers In Crisis](http://www.tigersincrisis.com/).


End file.
